


Lost Boy

by Politzania



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: After the funeral of his former employers, Edwin Jarvis  comforts their son, Tony Stark.Square: S5 - Edwin JarvisTitle:  Lost BoyRating: GeneralWarnings:  canonical character death (prior to fic)Pairing: none;   Edwin Jarvis  & Tony Stark  (platonic)Summary: After the funeral of his former employers, Edwin Jarvis comforts their son, Tony Stark.Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017420





	Lost Boy

“Come and find me, Jarvis!” A challenge called out with childish glee from nearly every corner of the Stark Mansion in years gone by. Tony had loved to play hide and seek; squeezing himself into every possible nook and cranny (and on one memorable occasion, the dumbwaiter) and giggling delightedly when Edwin would walk right by him, wondering out loud, “Oh dear, where is Master Anthony? I’ve simply looked everywhere!” He would always act surprised to hear Tony’s laugh, then hold out a hand to the child, leading him to the kitchen to find a treat as his reward. 

The thought of those days brought a smile to Edwin’s lips; but the mansion was somber and quiet now, its master and mistress laid to rest just that morning. It had been a private funeral; a compromise hammered out between two strong-willed individuals. Obadiah Stane would get his grand memorial service, yes, but Peggy Carter refused to allow the remains of her friends, the parents of her godson to be put on display for it. Edwin supposed the formal portrait that hung in the lobby of Stark Industries would stand in as the centerpiece of the service instead; Howard overshadowing Maria in death as he did in life. 

And their son: the stubborn, handsome, brilliant heir born to take the world by storm . . . if only he could avoid being consumed in his personal maelstrom. How Ana had loved young Master Anthony, the grandson she could never have. Edwin cared deeply for him as well, doing what he could to provide the support and guidance that Tony’s father neglected to. 

Returning to the mansion after the service, Tony had slipped away without a word while Edwin spoke with Peggy, reminiscing and planning for the future in equal measure. Now that she’d made her farewell, Edwin went in search of his young charge once more. 

He found Tony sitting on the floor of the conservatory, his back against a leg of the grand piano, and a tumbler half-full of scotch in his hand. Tony was staring up at the large family portrait -- now over a decade old -- that hung over the fireplace. “We we ever really like that, Jarvis?” His words came out slightly slurred, and his eyes were bright with unshed tears; the question broke Edwin’s heart a little. 

“I believe so, Tony, at least on occasion.” It wasn’t quite a lie; the Stark family had enjoyed happy moments over the years. But more often than not; Howard and Maria were caught up in their separate spheres of influence, leaving their son standing alone. 

Tony shook his head. “I keep thinking Mom’s going to walk through that door any minute and ask me why I’m sitting here on the floor.” He wiped clumsily at his nose with the hand holding the glass, and Edwin pulled out his handkerchief. Looking up with a watery grin, Tony commented, “Why am I not surprised you still carry one of those around, J?” 

“It has always been my job to be prepared,” he answered in his best butler voice, hoping to elicit at least a bit of a smile. “And what you’re feeling,” Edwin continued, “it’s quite normal. It took weeks before I stopped expecting Ana to come out of the kitchen when I got home, wiping her hands on a tea towel and telling me what we were having for dinner.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tony replied, “of course you’ve been through all this before.” He swirled the amber liquid in his glass before setting it aside. “So, what do I do now?”

“You keep going. You think of the best way to honor your loved ones. You hold on to the knowledge that they would want to see you happy.” 

Tony snorted. “Dad never cared whether I was happy.” 

“Howard Stark was not good at expressing those sort of feelings, but he did care for you, Tony.” 

“He had a hell of a way of showing it.” 

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Edwin recalled the strong words he and his employer had exchanged on more than one occasion on the topic, with Howard ending the argument by pointing to the door. Ana would never have forgiven her husband for calling Howard’s bluff and quitting; not because they needed the money, but because of Tony. 

More words, strong or otherwise, weren't what Tony needed right now, so Edwin held out his hand one more time. “Let’s head to the kitchen and see if I remember how to make rugelach.“


End file.
